Page 19 of On Thin Ice

“I guess.”

Dom: If this is a bad time, can we talk later?

It took me a moment to realize that I’d responded to one text and then gone radio silent. It was Darcy’s fault because she kept chiming in and distracting me.

Ally: Shit. Sorry. I’m at Darcy’s.

Dom: Is Jake there? Do they know?

I bristled.

Dom: Ignore that. Fuck. It doesn’t matter. Only you and the baby matter.

Ally: Wow. Laying it on thick now.

Darcy leaned over my arm, reading my phone. “You tell him.”

I side-eyed her.

“Sorry,” she said sheepishly.

“You are not.”

“Nope.” HerPpopped loudly.

I shook my head. “I should probably head home and just call him.”

“Or you could stay here and keep texting or go into the spare room and call. Then, I can be here for moral support. I swear I won’t listen at the door,” she said, looking all innocent.

I pointed at her. “Those eyes only work on Jake, missy.”

“You sure about that?” She batted her lashes at me.

“Stop it. Fine. I’ll stay.” I focused on my phone again, still at a loss. How did I deal with this? With him?

Dom: I’m not trying to lay anything on you. I’m just a mess and trying to figure out where to go from here.

I almost felt bad for him.

Almost.

Ally: So am I.

I hated how defensive I sounded, but he was frustrating the hell out of me.

Ally: Look, I know this isn’t easy for either of us. It was super unexpected, and here we are. But I’m happy that I’m going to be a mom. You just have to figure out what you really want. I don’t want you to tell me that you want to be involved because you think that’s what you should do, then end up changing your mind. Or be a part of her life and then disappear. That’s not fair to her, and she is all that matters right now.

“Good. He just wanted to be around for a fun time, and now he has to decide if he wants to be around for a long time,” Darcy said from over my shoulder. Again.

“Darc.”

“Yeah, yeah. I’ll stop,” she said, getting up from the couch and walking into the kitchen. “I think I’ll make cookies.”

“Don’t burn down the kitchen,” I called out. Darcy could not cook, and she very rarely baked. But she was giving me a little space, and as long as the place didn’t go up in flames, it was what I needed. I had no clue how this conversation was going to go, and I honestly didn’t know exactly what I wanted him to say.

“My cookies are decent, and this kitchen will survive. It’s not like you’re a gourmet chef, either,” Darcy said with a grin. “Now, get back to texting.”

I settled back into the couch. She wasn’t wrong. I could get by on easy stuff, like pasta, but cooking bored me.

---